


The Severed Thumbs of Love

by Avice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Love, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:59:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avice/pseuds/Avice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock can’t focus on his work – a peek into his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Severed Thumbs of Love

Sherlock is looking studiously at his lips. John's lips. What would it feel like to kiss them? To place his own lips on that mouth, to tuck the upper lip between his. To taste it. To study it with his tongue. To gently make those lips part and wedge his way into that mouth. To unhurriedly study that mouth with his tongue, gently, carefully. To gradually get to know the lips, the mouth. To know their taste and feel completely, perfectly. 

His trousers are becoming uncomfortable. John is staring at him. He returns his gaze to the microscope. Thumbs. Yes. Different cutters, different markers even after decomposing. Quite right. Interesting. The hell it is. John's lips. No, severed thumbs. Severed thumbs severedthumbsseveredthumbs. It's no use. Sighing he gets up and wanders to the living room. He can practically hear John's unspoken question. Although John would never ask it. He is too sensitive and considerate. It's one of the things he loves about him. Yes, loves. He loves John, loves him, loves, loves. No doubt about that. It makes him feel like a twelve year old girl. Having a crush. 

He picks up his violin absent-mindedly. Plucks a few strings, tunes it. As the first notes of Handel fill the air he can see John relaxing, getting back to his paper. John, I love you. He imagines shouting it. What would happen if he did? Severedthumbsseveredthumbs. Would John come over, caress his face and kiss him? Thumbs. Of the severed variety. There would be no way to hide a hard-on with a violin, severedthumbs it must be.

John is straight. Or appears to be. But he does love Sherlock, cares for him, is willing to take risks for him. Sherlock has no doubt about that. But does he love Sherlock like Mycroft: older-brotherly-the-poor-sod-can't-take-care-of-himself kind of way or possibly the can't-wait-to-undress-you-and-ravage-you kind of way that he tries to mimic with the sarahjeanettes in the upstairs bedroom. Of course Sherlock has spied on it. All things John are of interest to him. Even if it makes him a creepy pervert at times. Fortunately he is not one to let social decorum hinder himself. He is quite convinced that though John obviously enjoys it (and the women apparently too), it's not really blowing anybody's mind. If the internets are right there's sex and ohmygodimgonnadie-sex. Sherlock's estimate is that John's having the previous. Not that Sherlock would have any first-hand experience on either. But there is plenty of reference material available when it comes to sex. It’s evident that sexuality is fluid. Just because John hasn't shown an interest in men before, doesn't mean that he couldn't be interested in Sherlock. 

Again John is staring at him. Right, the violin. A tune, a melody. He puts the instrument down and returns to the kitchen. Severedthumbs. He really should focus.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asks looking into the microscope.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Shouldn't you be at work?"  
"What work? You can't mean the surgery?"  
"Of course I mean the surgery."  
John chortles. "Really, Sherlock, you still amaze me." Sherlock beams proudly. "I was fired from the clinic two months ago! I worked there a week if that. They sacked me 'cause I didn't turn up or if I did, I slept and didn't treat any patients. Not to mention putting my colleague in mortal danger and standing her up..."  
"Hmph, that was pretty careless of you," Sherlock states, non-beaming.

John shakes his head and resumes his reading. That man... he can't decide if he wants to fight Sherlock or just... bloody hell: take him. Not that he's gay. He's not. But, Christ, the man confuses him.  
"In case you've forgotten, I work with you now, as your assistant," John adds turning a page.  
"I know that," Sherlock asserts annoyed, "but what do you do for money?"  
John sighs in exasperation and puts his paper down.  
"You pay me. We even made the papers on it."  
"Oh. Right," Sherlock turns to the thumbs again. "How can I pay you?"  
The man truly is amazing.  
"You know the people who come here? Whose problems you solve? They actually pay you for insulting them and I get my share for traipsing around the country and continent." Sherlock keeps a blank face.  
"Lucky for you, we also agreed that I would handle the finances," John adds with another shake of his head.

Sherlock exhales gloomily. It's as if John's attempting to make him feel stupid. If they were a couple, John probably would come over now, ruffle his hair and give him a kiss saying something like "Oh, honey, you're so silly sometimes." Would John ever say 'silly'? Probably not. Or come to think of it, call anybody 'honey'? Unlikely. Severedthumbsseveredthumbs. Damn it, he has work to do, this is not the time to contemplate John's vocabulary. How idiotic: this must be what other people occupy their minds with! Wasting their mental resources on pointless daydreaming. No wonder they get nothing thought. It is addicting too. He could waste the day in inane reverie. 

No, he has to get himself together. He is better than this. He has always been able to control his mind, he must do so now. At last, with the fear of succumbing to the average level, Sherlock actually manages to focus and continue with his work. The thumbs turn out interesting enough.


End file.
